The Spell for Coming Forth by Day
by Miskcat
Summary: How did Roy Mustang transform, from the smiling, healing figure at the end of the series, to the depressed exile early in the movie, to the strong, conquering hero at the end of the movie?
1. Chapter 1

_The__ 'Book of the Dead'_, more accurately called the _'Spell for Coming Forth by Day'_, was a collection of spells and texts including a scene of judgement in which the heart of the deceased is weighed throughout the night of his sojourn in the underworld, against a feather (representing_ the divine order_). If the deceased is found lacking, he is gobbled up by a demon. If the deceased passes the judgement, his all-conquering spirit then emerges with the morning sun.

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Letters given by General Roy Mustang to Gracia Hughes, for safekeeping, mere days before his death. They were contained in a package addressed to Major Riza Hawkeye, but of course were never delivered to her, as she died along with the general in the destruction of the city buried beneath Central City.

From internal references, it is clear that these letters were written over a period of almost two years, during which General Mustang was stationed in the remote northern outpost after recovering from the injuries he suffered after the death of Fuhrer Bradley. Although the letters were written to Major Hawkeye, General Mustang states in more than one of them that he never intended her to see them unless he were to die for some reason. When he became aware that he would die in the underground city, clearly he planned that she should receive the letters. But of course this purpose was thwarted when she joined him in his final sacrifice.

The letters have instead remained in the possession of Gracia Hughes. While all of the general's close friends have read them, they have agreed that Mrs. Hughes or a designated successor should retain them in privacy, until such time as they can be released to the public without irreparable damage to General Mustang's reputation.

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**1**.

Dearest Riza,

It's been a month now. I know apologies are not enough. I don't know how to explain what I've done. I keep hoping you understand, but that's awfully presumptuous, isn't it?

I know I've hurt you, and that becomes one more hurt I've inflicted, in what seems a lifetime of bringing pain to people. Or worse.

Maybe you know by now, about the boy. I wonder if you already knew, and kept it from me. If you did...then I guess you really do understand, don't you? Or you would have told me.

Bradley's son is dead. I thought I had saved him from the fire. The one good thing I thought I did in that whole evening of violence and blood. If he hadn't come in when he did, I'd be dead instead of the Fuhrer. And because Selim came in – he died. I didn't save him, even after he had brought me what I needed to defeat his father.

How many people have been sacrificed so I could succeed at some enterprise I thought was important?

It's too much to bear, Riza. I just couldn't stay, and face yet another death. Haven't I always said what a coward I am?

I don't know what is left for me now. I had to get away, had to think. Or perhaps not to think. Maybe that's really what I'm doing.

It's very cold here.


	2. Chapter 2

**2**.

Dearest Riza,

I keep waiting to hear your voice, or to see you walking through the door. It became such a habit, all those weeks when you were taking care of me. But I don't think that's the reason why I keep waiting for you now.

The one thing I'm sure of, more than any other fact in life, is that you will never come here. You will never follow me.

I don't remember if I ever told you how grateful I was that you helped me recover. How happy I was during those weeks. You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you now – but I was.

It's so cold here. I'm finding it hard to get used to. I've only been here a few weeks, so I guess I should be more patient.


	3. Chapter 3

**3**.

Dear Riza,

It really is cold. I didn't want to admit it before, but there's a reason I can't seem to get warm. Aside from the fact that I'm much more used to the warmer weather in the East, or in Central. Or, of course, in Ishbal...

I've been thinking about Ishbal a lot, actually. I'd like to think it's just the contrast between the heat and the sand there, and the cold and snow here: living in one triggers the contrasting thought of the other.

But it's more than that. I've been trying not to think about it, but it's pretty hard to ignore.

The reason I'm cold...is because I'm relying on the fuel and the matches that are laid in here, to try to keep warm. I'm not very good at gauging how long the fuel will last, or how hard it will be to get a fire going. I haven't had to worry about things like that for many years.

I can't even bring myself to take the gloves out of my suitcase. Not yet. The last time I used them...

And so I'm playing with matches instead.

I seem to be going back to basics. Which makes me wonder again why I'm here. What other basics are there, that I need to go back to? Is that why I came here? I'm still trying to figure that out.


	4. Chapter 4

**4**.

Dear Riza,

I've been dreaming about Maes, the last few nights. He always seems to be running down some hallway in Central headquarters, and I can't catch up to him. Now, when I want to tell him I'll never hang up on him again and I want to hear everything he has to say, even if he just spends hours showing me those damn pictures...

I tried for so long not to think about him. I mean – I did think about him, but only when receiving reports about the progress in the murder investigation, or when I tried to analyze the materials Scieszka gave me. Or really, threw at me. I was always sorry that I didn't dare let her know I took her own investigations very seriously.

That was my whole method, though, wasn't it? Never letting anyone know when I respected them or was concerned about them. I never even let myself know, if I could manage not to. I did nothing but lie and hide, for years.

Maes was the only person I didn't lie to. I think, sometimes, that he knew me better than I knew myself, and he was the only person who knew me.

But that's not true, is it? There is...there _was_...one other. But you were my partner in the lying and hiding. Were we really doing the right thing, I wonder, you and I? How could we have achieved what we did, any other way? Would it have been better if we hadn't aimed so high?

Would I even have survived, after Ishbal, if I hadn't aimed that high? Would you have abandoned me if I hadn't had that goal?

In my dreams, I run after Maes, and I want very much to listen this time. And he won't tell me what I want most to know.


	5. Chapter 5

**5**.

Dear Riza,

I haven't written for a few weeks because, frankly, I've been afraid to put this into words. But I'm forcing myself to put it down in case someone ever needs a chronicle. Evidence of the progressive madness of Roy Mustang.

I wondered why I really came here, and thought it might be to avoid thinking. Then I thought it might be to get "back to basics" (whatever that means).

Now I think it may be to go slowly mad.

I was dreaming of Maes, before. But now... It's still hard to write this, even though I'm determined to record everything. Now I'm dreaming of him even when I'm awake. And he's not running away now; he appears beside me and talks to me.

That is...he doesn't talk to me, he almost yells. He's not pleased at all. He keeps cornering me – yes, I'm not kidding, he actually backs me into a corner – and demanding an accounting of my life.

I tried to ignore him the first few days. He's a figment of my own imagination, after all, isn't he? But he's so _persistent._ You know how he is, you can't shut him up once he gets an idea into his head –

Was. That's what I mean. You know how he _was._


	6. Chapter 6

**6**.

Dearest Riza,

I'm trying to ignore this, I really am. I've heard of people going nuts up here, in this lonely outpost all by themselves. There were stories about it all the way back when I had just joined up, back at the Academy with Maes –

Maes. He just won't leave me alone. I keep telling myself I don't have to give in to him – to this – but he won't stop.

Yesterday I was kneeling by the fireplace, trying to light another damn match, to restart the fire after it had gone out. And there he was, standing over me, literally yelling at me, saying things like, "When are you going to take a good look at yourself?"

I couldn't just ignore him, as I did the first few days, but I sure as hell wasn't going to let him bully me like that. I kept saying things like "Shut up," and "Just go away." I wasn't even going to look at him, so I kept trying to start the fire, but every match I tried broke, and my hands were shaking, and I just couldn't do it.

He kept at me and at me, and finally I got so angry that I leapt to my feet and snapped my fingers, as though I had my gloves on and wanted to burn him to a crisp.

Not the first time I've done that.

He glared straight into my eyes and said, "I've already died for you once. I think I have a right to ask a few things in return."

I gave up trying to light the fire that day. I dragged a heavy blanket into the front room and huddled under it, and tried to read the latest dispatches. Maes seems to have left me alone for a couple of days since then, but I know he'll be back.

Riza, I'm afraid. I don't know if I can bear this. If Maes has turned on me, I don't know if I'll have the strength to go on. He's probably right – after what I did to his life, he has the right to demand anything from me.

But I'm afraid he's going to find out that I'm a coward at heart, and was always nothing without his strength holding me up. All the goodness and vision and courage I seemed to have – was it really his, all along? His...and yours? Where was Roy Mustang, all that time? Who was he?

Riza, I'm so afraid.


	7. Chapter 7

**7**.

Dear Riza,

Dammit, I'm not going to let the isolation get me down! "Where was Roy Mustang" – ha! Asking questions like that is what drives you crazy. And I'm not going to let myself go crazy up here.

I just needed a break, that's all. That's why I'm here. It's just a time to regroup, after everything that happened, with Edward, and with Bradley.

I know who I am. I don't care what Maes says. I'm deeply flawed, God knows, but I've worked very hard to overcome that.

He's got some nerve, trying to call things into question after all this time. I worked hard to build the persona, and try to get myself into a position where I could make things better in the world. And he helped me. So if he doesn't like how I turned out, well, guess who shares the blame?


	8. Chapter 8

**8**.

Dear Riza,

He won't leave me alone.

Remember when I said that I wanted to listen to him this time, and never hang up on him again? He's calling me a liar, and he's right. I don't want to hear what he wants to tell me. Why won't he leave me alone? Why won't he go away?

It's been weeks – or has it been months? It goes on, day after day, until it feels like I've been living this nightmare my whole life. When will he go away, and leave me at peace?

How can I want my best friend to vanish again? As though I want him to die a second time, for my convenience.

It's just killing me to be so angry with him. I actually alternate between anger and fear, but it's the anger that horrifies me. He gave up everything for me – everything! – so how can I be angry with him now?

But I am, at least sometimes. I'm furious that he died on me when I really needed him. I'm angry that he kept me in the dark about so many things, especially the things that put him most in danger. It's like he was treating me like a child, as though if he told me the truth, I'd lose my head and run off and do something to destroy everything we'd worked for.

I'm angry that maybe he was right – except I don't believe that. I destroyed Bradley because it was necessary, and because sometimes there are things that turn out to be more important than some lofty goal with no blood or heart or warmth in it. And because he sent someone to murder Maes Hughes, and no matter what the consequences, I was not going to let that go unpunished.

If Maes disapproves of that, then to hell with him.


	9. Chapter 9

**9**.

Dear Riza,

I just don't get him! Why is he here? He's _dead_, for god's sake! I don't know what he wants from me.

He doesn't want anything. He's dead. He's just a figment of my imagination.

How can I reassess things and make plans for my future, if he won't quit hounding me? I don't even know why he's doing it, or what he wants.

And why can't I make him go away, if he's just in my head? And how can I even want him to go away, when I want more than anything else in life for him to be alive and here with me right now?

He's got me so mixed up, I don't even know what I really want. So much for trying to get on my feet again.

Damn the man, he should have told me he was in danger! I'd have moved heaven and earth to protect him, and I sure as hell wouldn't have let the bastards kill him. What was he thinking?

He didn't _trust_ me! I think that's what makes me so angry. Weren't we supposed to be together in this? I was going to be Fuhrer, but he was my partner. But there he was, being selective in what he did and didn't let me know. Who did he think he was – some kind of puppet master? Was I just a tool that he could use any way he chose, just so long as somebody got to the top and got rid of Fuhrer Bradley? Did it even matter that it was _me_, or would he have supported anybody at all, so long as Bradley could be deposed?

I thought he was my friend. How dared he hide things from me, and manipulate me like that? Look what happened when he did that!

Oh no. Is that what he's trying to tell me? Is this how everyone else felt, every time I did the same thing to them?


	10. Chapter 10

**10**.

Dearest Riza,

I went for a long walk today, and got lost for a while. It's a little warmer than it was – a form of summer comes even to this place eventually. There's a stream that runs near the cabin, and I followed it into the hills north of this place, to see if I could get close to its source.

Maes came with me. I seem to need to have him with me wherever I go, these days. I decided this morning that I wouldn't even try to figure out why, but just let it happen today.

It was so beautiful up there. It reminded me a little of the rocky terrain just east of Risembool, but it's a lot wilder up here.

It might be warmer, and the snow might have melted, but it's still a little cold, at least in the shadows. It was sort of bracing, actually. Though it's been such a long time since I've had any real exercise, that I got tired awfully quickly.

I can already see the look you're giving me. I know, I know. I didn't really think it through, did I?

It was worth it, though, and it was kind of a relief to get out of the cabin. I'm not necessarily the best company for myself, if you know what I mean. Maybe that's why I've resurrected Maes. Though that still doesn't explain why I've made him so…aggravating. To put it mildly.

But he was good company today. We talked about our early training at the academy, and some of our furloughs together. I can't imagine how it would have appeared if anyone else had been walking up there and saw me – a soldier of Amestris walking through the valley alone, chatting and laughing with nobody at all, about "old times." They'd have called in the guys in the white coats, I think.

When I realized I was lost, I sat on a rock for a while, trying to get my bearings. It was already late afternoon, and getting cold again. Maes teased me, a little, about not having my gloves. If I'd been out there all night, I wouldn't even have been able to make a fire to keep warm. Well, I would have, but I'd have had to draw my arrays. It would have taken longer.

I started to wonder, while I sat there, if anyone would really notice or care if I couldn't find my way back, and died of cold or starvation when it gets really cold up here again. I know you'd grieve for me. And I know the others would – Havoc, Falman, Breda, Fuery. And probably Gracia.

But I had to be honest, and admit to myself that the vast majority of the world would be glad I was dead.

What kind of man am I, that the world would greet his death with such gladness?


	11. Chapter 11

**11.**

He's being so vicious toward me that I can hardly stand it.

I know why I brought him back, Riza. He's one of the only two people in the world who aren't afraid to slap the truth right in my face.

Is there really any more truth I need to hear, though? I already know that everything I've done with my life has been…terrible. It's not like I need to be told. I know that truth better than either you or Maes.

Because of course, you're the other person who isn't afraid of looking me in the eye and throwing the truth at me.

But he's conveniently dead, so he's available for resurrection. While you're…inconveniently?...alive.

I don't mean that. God, I don't mean it. If anything happened to you, I don't think I could go on. Just knowing you're out there right now, getting on with life, alive and well (because someone would notify me if you weren't) – it makes everything worth it. You deserve to live and be happy. You deserve peace.

Those weeks when you helped me recover were the closest to happy that I've been in years. I couldn't tell you – because it was just never allowed, was it? – what paradise it was, to wake up in the morning and see your face above me, and that golden hair. It was like silk. I don't think you know how often I had to keep myself from running my hands through it.

Will I ever see you again? It would probably be better for you if I didn't. I don't think you'd agree with me, though, and that hurts very badly. You are such a fine person, sometimes I can't bear the thought that you might remain loyal to me, and…care for me.

Or do you, now? Maybe it was the last straw, my walking out on you as I did. Maybe it finally proved to you that I am unredeemable. It would be so much better for you if it did.

And it would be utterly unbearable for me.


	12. Chapter 12

**12**.

Dear Riza,

I can hardly write, my hands are shaking so badly.

Maes was as vicious as he's ever been, today. It seems to be some kind of theme for him, since he started showing up: "When are you going to take a good look at yourself?"

He kept on about that for what seemed like half the day, so that I could hardly concentrate on my reports. At least, until today, he'd let up on me long enough for me to fill out forms when they were due.

(I'm sure you'd be amused by that. I'm actually doing my paperwork these days, and even finishing it and submitting it on time. How ludicrous, that I had to go through everything I have, just to learn to pay proper attention to my paperwork! How can that make sense, in a sane universe?)

But there was no shutting him up today, so I finally got angry and swept all the papers off the table. (Yes, it was childish, but very satisfying. Sorry. If you were here to keep a proper rein on me – but never mind.) I rushed into the bathroom, where there's a mirror above the sink. I was sure he'd been speaking metaphorically, but I decided I'd show _him_, and give him what he wanted, in a literal sense instead. So I grabbed the patch and pulled it off, and stared at my face.

It's hard to describe what happened after that. I realized that I'd never really looked before. I didn't actually know what had happened to my face. Oh, I knew the details, but I had never really _looked_ before, except in very quick glimpses before I turned my head. Even when I washed my face, I'd kept my good eye closed.

Another place where I had hidden, and managed not to let myself really know, even while I knew all the facts in my head.

I felt like I'd been stabbed in the heart. I can't describe the horror I felt. It was as though my whole life was crashing down in ruin. The loss was unbearable.

I think I ran back out to the front room fairly quickly, at least that was where I found myself about an hour later. I'd been reeling all that time, with everything swirling around inside me. I kept telling myself that this was ridiculous, and it was just an injury, and soldiers had been enduring injury and doing just fine since the beginning of time.

It didn't help that Maes was sitting on the edge of the desk, jeering at me. "This has nothing to do with being a soldier," he said.

After another hour of this, I realized that I'd dropped the patch in the bathroom, and I'd have to go back to get it. I couldn't stand to have this – this monstrosity open and visible to the whole world any more. Which of course meant visible to me.

It took a long time to get up the courage to go back in there, and I could only do it, in the end, by backing in and crouching down to get it, without looking at the mirror.

Damn! I'm such a coward!


	13. Chapter 13

**13**.

Dear Riza,

I've realized why my reaction was so strong last week, when I took off the patch. The reason is so despicable that I'm thoroughly ashamed, and sick. Maes was right when he said my reaction had nothing to do with being a soldier.

I never really knew just how vain I truly was. The things people have always accused me of – vanity, arrogance, condescension – they were all true. I cultivated some of it, to try to present a certain face to the world. Another way to hide my true intentions, of course, as I climbed the ladder. But so much of it was really there, really part of who I was.

Riza, how could you put up with it for so long? No wonder you were always so determined to bring me down to earth again, any time I got big ideas I shouldn't have. When I think of how often I deserved to be slapped in the face, I admire your restraint even more than I did before.

I suppose it won't make up for anything if I say that some of it was self-defence too. After Ishbal, I hated myself so much that I needed a lot of help to become functional again. I know that's no excuse, so don't even bother saying it. I built an image of myself for the world, and I began to believe it was the real thing.

Now that I've calmed down, and started thinking it all through, can you guess what I wish most of all? I wish I could apologize to Jean. I really treated him badly, didn't I? And I did it precisely because I wanted to present a facade that would help me get to the top. Jean's well-being was just a minor sacrifice, for that great goal. Never mind what Jean might think of it.

I think maybe I finally saw my true face in the mirror last week.


	14. Chapter 14

**14**.

Dear Riza,

I still seem to be reeling, but I don't know where this is coming from. Am I still unsettled from the mirror incident a few days ago? I didn't think I was, but the disturbing things are coming from all sides now.

I pulled out my gloves at last, yesterday. It's been eight months since I arrived here, after all, and I'd been recovering for several weeks even before I left Central. You'd think I'd be able to start using alchemy again by now.

I still don't seem to have the knack for getting a fire going and making it last. (The irony continues to amuse me.) The brief summer is long gone, and the nights are very chilly again. I'm tired of being cold most of the time, so I decided to start small, and set the wood burning properly for a change. Just a simple thing, right?

I stood in front of the fireplace, with my hand up, ready to snap – and images began to flash in front of my eyes. Images of Ishbal, and flames, and explosions, and burning and charred bodies lying everywhere, by the thousands. They literally seemed to pour into my mind.

There was nothing there. But my eye was seeing it all. My _missing_ eye.

I had to rip off the glove; in fact, I threw it across the room. Everything stopped when I did that.

I guess...I'm not ready to use alchemy again just yet.

And now I'm jumpy. Maes didn't show up for an hour after that, but when he spoke to me, my whole body jerked and my heart started pounding. I don't know if I'll sleep tonight. It might be better if I don't, because I'm afraid I'll see those images again in my dreams.


	15. Chapter 15

**15**.

Oh Riza,

How young do you have to be when you commit a crime, so that it doesn't haunt you the rest of your life?

I can't get away. I can't get away. They've got me surrounded.

Dammit, they don't exist! I'm imagining all of them! Why won't they leave me alone??

First it was the doctors – the Rockbells. They woke me up in the night, standing on either side of the bed. I could see the blood dripping down their faces. I could _hear_ it dripping, onto the floor, drip, drip, drip. They didn't even say anything, they just stared at me. Just stared.

I couldn't move. I laid there in bed in total silence, my brain screaming that there's no such thing as ghosts, screaming for my muscles to move, MOVE!

I kept waiting for them to take some kind of revenge – that must have been why they were there, right? They had me right where they wanted me, alone and vulnerable and already half-mad. They must have been here to finish the job, that's what I thought. But they faded away after a while, and didn't do anything.

I thought Maes might show up and make fun of me or something, for being so afraid. When he didn't show, then I thought maybe I could relax, and get back to sleep.

As if I'd be let off that easily.

It's been days now, Riza. They're coming back, every single person I've ever killed. It doesn't matter where I sleep at night any more. After the first couple of nights, after an endless parade of burned and bloody corpses around my bed, I thought I'd be smart and sleep sitting up by the fireplace at night. But that didn't stop them. There are so _many_!

I keep seeing that boy, the one holding the rifle, the one I had a standoff with, when I hoped against hope that he wouldn't try to fire and we could both somehow come out of the situation alive. But he moved, and I killed him. He had time to scream before he burned to death. He screams again, every time he comes to me now. At least…I think the screams are his.

How many children have I killed in my lifetime, Riza? What kind of monster am I?


	16. Chapter 16

**16**.

Dear Riza,

Maes is behind this. I know he is. He hasn't talked to me for a few days, but I've seen him standing there, behind the phantoms as they dance around the room in front of the cold fireplace. (I've given up even trying to build any kind of fire there.) He just stands in the shadows, and smiles as my victims torture me.

He figured out pretty quickly that it would be the kids who tormented me most. I had never allowed myself to think about them. I felt guilty for all the people I killed – murdered – in Ishbal, but that's how I thought of them: "people." Just the one word, to lump them all together into a manageable pile. Like those piles of corpses we created everywhere during the massacre. You remember.

I had never really let myself think of them individually, as mothers, elders, brothers, craftsmen, children. If I had, I would have gone completely mad. The closest I ever got was just after I came home, when I was calculating how many I had killed, so I could try to bring them back with human transmutation. And Maes could have told you how close I was to madness, then.

Well…they're coming individually now. Faces I never knew I had even registered as I slaughtered them. I see them all now. Sometimes they're so thick in the room that I'm forced to huddle in the arm chair with my feet up, under the blanket. And I didn't think it was possible to cry so much.

I don't know how long it's been since I first saw the Rockbell doctors and everything started. Four weeks? Five?

I'm trying to keep my sanity. I don't really know why. I've always craved oblivion, after what I did in Ishbal, and it would be such a relief to let the madness take me. But I look at Maes's smug smile, back there in the shadows behind the children's dancing corpses, and I get so angry that I grab the paperwork again. I do it just to spite him. I hate him so much!

Sorry. I know I should value the paperwork for more than the fact that it's a weapon against Maes, and a wall against the madness. But in those little moments when I can still smile, I imagine myself telling you how much more useful that stuff is than even you ever dreamed.

That's another thing that keeps me sane. Forget the damn paperwork. I think of you.

The day they crowd around me so thickly that they block out your face, I will blow my brains out.


	17. Chapter 17

**17**.

Riza –

I almost did it today. I came so close, it scares me.

It was the children again. And…it was Selim. The last child I killed.

Yes, I know what you're going to say. I didn't kill him. I know it was really Bradley, when he threw the boy across the room and broke his neck. But I created the situation in the first place. And I couldn't find another way to destroy Bradley, without that skull the kid brought in.

He brought it in, giving me what I needed – and died for it. Like Maes, when you think about it.

It was the last straw, when Selim showed up. This time, it was definitely me who screamed. I saw Selim standing there, with his head angled to one side – and I completely lost it.

I ran into the bathroom and grabbed my razor. I guess I had some wild idea about slitting my wrists. But then I pulled off the patch and had another look at the horror my face has become. I started to laugh – would you believe it, I laughed! Hysteria, of course.

I got the crazy notion of finishing the job Archer started. I was going to slash the razor across the good side of my face a few times before I got to my wrists. Might as well go out of this world looking like a monster on the outside. To match the inside, right?

But then I remembered another time, staring at myself in the mirror. It was the morning we took the train out, to Ishbal. I remembered smiling about our adventure. We'd help put down the rebellion, and the Ishballans would see the error of their ways, and there would be peace. I really was that stupid. I remember smiling as I shaved, that morning. My face was so young.

_I_ was so young.

I couldn't help myself. I started to cry. All that innocence in the beginning, the innocence in my own eyes, and it all went up in flames. What have we done to ourselves, all these years? My country and I.

Riza. The first innocent I destroyed, all those years ago, was myself.

I know I dropped the razor. But it didn't matter now. I found myself on the floor, leaning against the tub. I kept crying, "I was just a kid myself! I didn't know, I didn't know how to stop what was happening! I was just a kid!"

When I saw Maes at the door, I thought he was going to laugh at what a blubbering weakling I'd become. He's been…so cruel, the last few months. Everything might have been bearable, if he hadn't been the mastermind behind all my torments.

But this time he knelt beside me, and he was the way I always knew him. I haven't seen him smile like that in so long! I needed him so much. He put his arms around me – you may think I'm crazy, but I really felt them, like I felt his shoulder when I put my head on it.

To hell with "all in your own mind, Mustang." He was really _there_.

He said, "You're right, Roy. You were just a kid. You weren't completely blameless, but you can be forgiven. You were just a kid."

It was true, you know. I was hardly older, then, than Edward is now. And I hadn't had nearly the hard knocks he had, to force him to grow up so quickly.


	18. Chapter 18

**18**.

Dear Riza,

You know how it feels after you've been sick for a while, and then start to feel a little better?

I've been so light-headed I can hardly get out of bed, the last few days.

Oh, right. I'm sleeping in the bed again. Maes told me it was okay, after he got me out of the bathroom that day, away from the razor.

If the phantoms have come back, I've been too tired to notice them. I'm exhausted, and I sleep a lot right now. But I think Maes is standing guard against them, anyway, so they won't bother me.

Which is pretty damn rich, when you think of it, since he was the one who brought them in the first place. I know he was.

If I ever manage to wake up, we're going to have to have a very long talk about all that.

My muscles feel like jelly. It feels good. Don't laugh.

I might have to finish this later. I'm so tired I can hardly keep my…


	19. Chapter 19

**19**.

Dear Riza,

If it's not one thing, it's another, with me. I'm still trying to sort through everything that happened the last few months, and now suddenly I start dreaming about Ed.

I was ready to yell at Maes about it, the second time it happened. But he gave one of those shrugs of his – you know how he did that, raising his shoulders and kind of tilting his head – and he just said, "Don't blame me, this one's all yours." In that tone of voice he had. The one that used to make my fingers twitch.

Yes, I know how bizarre his comment sounds, coming from a dead man I've resurrected in my head. Don't look at me like that. (You know you are.)

But I think he's right. I've had four dreams about Ed so far, and I really don't think they're coming from the same place as the hallucinations with Maes.

This may sound as crazy as everything else that's happened in my head since I came up here, but…it's almost as if the dreams are coming to me from outside.

Yes, Roy Mustang is cracking up. First he sees the ghosts of every dead person he's ever encountered – and now he's getting "messages from the other side."

Does every crazy person go mad quite this…elaborately?


	20. Chapter 20

**20**.

Dear Riza,

I'm so confused. Am I doing this to myself?

I dream about Ed every night now, and sometimes more than once a night. Maes insists this isn't his doing, so I just can't figure this out.

I thought for a while that I came up here to drive myself mad. I seemed to be doing a pretty good job of it, too. That may still be the reason, I don't know. Lots of time left.

Or maybe I came here to punish myself. There's no such thing as divine retribution, so let's inflict it ourselves. Sure.

But the phantoms are gone, all except Maes, and these dreams feel…different.

It might be that Fullmetal's in a class all his own. He'd agree with me on that, I think, even though he'd mean it differently than I do.

He's one of the children, of course. One of my child victims. I didn't kill him, but I set him on his course. I used his personal tragedy as my hook to drag him into the military and under my own influence, and then I used him to do my dirty work in the search for the Philosopher's Stone. I manipulated him with everything I was worth, from the first day I ever saw him, mutilated and suffering in that sick bed.

And I started the whole process in the Rockbells' own home. In the home of the doctors I had murdered. With _their_ child standing by, watching.

If I hadn't done the things I'd already done in Ishbal, I'd say that what I did to Edward, Al, and Winry that day was probably the most wicked thing I could ever have done. How I wronged them! And Ed most of all.

It was only his own marvelous, dauntless spirit that overcame what I did to him, and gave him his victory in the end.

But is that what this is about? Am I going to awaken in the night one of these days and find him at the end of my bed – the final phantom, the one who will put the seal on my punishment?

Is this really coming out of my own head? Or…


	21. Chapter 21

**21**.

Dear Riza,

The one thing I wish I could get up here is news. Actually, that hasn't been true for most of this year, but I'm starting to get interested again.

You know, I don't really think I came up here to "reassess" or "make a plan for the future" or anything like that. I think I was right when I said I came to this post to drive myself insane, or punish myself.

But I don't think I want that any more. Whatever these dreams are (I'm still having them), they're something else, and I'll figure them out eventually. In the meantime, I want to know how the country is doing. Maes has no idea, but we both know why that is.

I'm sure the change in government from a military dictatorship back to the parliament and Council has had a few rocky moments, but I believe our country is capable of righting itself. There's a core of strength here that will stand us in good stead. It's what I love about this country.

I wonder what part I might still be able to play? I'm still such a wreck, maybe there's nothing I'm capable of doing any more. Maybe it's time to pass the torch to someone else. But I'm still relatively young – surely my usefulness to my country hasn't been exhausted? Surely there's still time to use my alchemy "for the people," as I always dreamed of doing? (Listen to me. I sound like Ed.)

That is…if I ever do alchemy again. I know, I'm still a coward. I still tremble when I pull out the gloves, and the memories come flooding back.

But never mind that. What about you? Are you alright, Riza? I've written all these letters to you, even though I doubt you'll ever see them. (Unless something happens to me. Then I'd want you to read them, and understand everything.) But just the idea – that I could talk to you, that you'd care what happened to me – that's kept me sane more than anything else.

It would be worth everything, to heal and get out of here and see you again. I've talked about nothing but myself in these letters, but you are in my thoughts almost every moment. I hope you're well, and going on with your life. I hope you don't hate me for leaving you, but I wouldn't blame you if you did.

I want you to be happy. I want never to hurt you again.


	22. Chapter 22

**22**.

Riza,

Did you know they were coming for a visit? Havoc and Breda, I mean.

When I heard Jean's voice over the phone, calling from the station, just for a minute I had a wild hope that he'd brought you with him.

Stupid, I know. I've known all along that you'd never come here. Nothing has changed, on your end, at least. I'm glad you weren't with them, even though I think I'd kill for the chance to see you again. (No. I don't mean that. Even for you, I don't want to kill again. Not if I can prevent it. I don't think I can make that sort of joke any more.)

At any rate – I couldn't bear for you to see me like this.

I'm still not in very good shape, even if the ghosts have stopped haunting me. The dreams about Edward haven't stopped, and I've been a little depressed because Maes hasn't been coming by as often as before. When he skips a few days in a row, I become afraid that he'll never come back.

Of course he'll never come back. He's dead. What am I saying?

Note sane yet, I'm afraid.

I know Havoc and Breda could see it, and I'm sure they told you. That is…if you were interested.

God, it was good to see them again! I knew I missed everybody, but I don't think I realized how much. When will I ever get the chance to work with all of you again? Will the military ever let me?

I miss you so much.


	23. Chapter 23

**23**.

Dear Riza,

I know, I know. It's been a while. Months, in fact. Sorry about that.

At least you can take it as a sign that I'm not sitting here driving myself crazy. At least, I don't think so. Maybe you'd have to ask Maes about that.

Yes, he's still around. I guess that's not really a symptom in my favour, is it?

But he's started coming around more often again, and he's got this idea that intrigues me. I'm not sure I should act on it, but then again, considering the dreams about Ed…

Oh, I didn't mention that I'm still having those, did I? They're not coming every night any more, but I'm still getting them. They're usually pretty vague, but some nights, it's like he's right in front of me.

No, I don't mean that way. Not like the phantoms. I know now that this isn't like that at all.

It's just…I can see him, living and working in some other place.

I know that sounds crazy.

But Riza – he's alive. I know he is.


	24. Chapter 24

**24**.

Dear Riza,

I never did tell you what Maes's idea was, did I?

I'm on the train, heading into Dublith. It took a few weeks to wrangle, but I had some leave coming, and finally got permission to come down here.

Will you be upset that I went right past Central, and didn't stop? I know you and the others are still stationed there; I've had that much news, at least, thanks to Havoc and Breda. (And Jean has called me a few times since his visit. He's a good friend, and I'm relieved to be even that connected again.)

I guess I'm just not ready to see you yet. I turned a big corner, back on that day I almost put the razor to my wrists. I'm not drowning in guilt the way I used to. I'm not sure what the difference is, but maybe…I might have begun to forgive myself.

And Riza, even more than that – I've decided that I want to live. I really mean it. I no longer want to put a gun to my head. After all these years, I really want to live.

But what am I living _for?_ That's what I still need to figure out. That's why I'm not ready to see you, and that's why I didn't stop in Central. When I finally understand what I'm living for, then I promise I'll come to you. I may even come to you as a whole man, or as near as I can get after the life I've led. And if you've left me behind…then I will face it.

In the meantime – I want to see Alphonse. I know he won't remember me, but I really want to see him, in the flesh. It will be the first time I've ever seen him as anything but a suit of armour. I don't exactly know why I want this so urgently, but I think it's somehow connected with my dreams about Ed. When Jean told me that Alphonse believes Ed is alive, and is trying to find a way to get him back, I knew that my dreams were not merely dreams.

No. I am _not_ crazy. Really.

You don't believe me, do you?


	25. Chapter 25

**25.**

Riza,

Back on the train, heading north again. And no…I'm sorry, I'm not going to stop in at Central this time either.

I have to be ready. I have to finish getting myself ready.

And I can just see you raising your eyebrows when I say I don't know what I'm getting ready _for_. But something's coming.

Have you seen Al, since he got his body back? I'm sure you must have, because I know Jean and Scieszka both keep in touch with Winry, and I've heard that Armstrong has gotten acquainted with that girl from Lior (I don't know her name). It's good to know that Alphonse wasn't abandoned by my people, even after Ed and I were gone.

I saw him, Riza. We didn't speak – I just wasn't ready. But I saw him, and he's beautiful. He's earnest, and loving, and pure in spirit , and I know – I just _know_ –he'll never let any of the evils and tragedies of the world change him, or force him to lose that pure spirit.

He will never be like me.

I haven't felt anything like hope for many years, but I felt it as I watched him talk to his teacher about taking care of some kittens.

Isn't that funny? Alphonse and kittens. I might have laughed, but I knew that if I opened my mouth I would have wept instead. Ed brought him back, perfect and whole. Do you know what a feat that was? I was always proud of Edward, and I know I should have told him that. But when I saw Alphonse, and realized what Ed had done, I scaled way beyond pride.

I love those boys, Riza.

But I haven't really told you what happened while I was there. Seeing Al was almost incidental, even though he'd been the reason I took the trip. I ended up talking to his teacher instead – Izumi.

By the way, it isn't true that you and Maes are the only people who aren't afraid to hit me with the truth. In fact, I think Izumi could have given you both lessons.

What she told me was that my work isn't done. Oh, I know anybody can say something like that. And I've been wishing lately that there was still something I could do, damaged as I am. So you wouldn't think a housewife in Dublith, who happens also to be an alchemist, should really have the authority to tell me something like that. What would she know, right?

But she said there's a reason I was given the name "Flame," and that's because I was meant to be refined in the fire. She said that I haven't looked inside – really looked – to discover the end result of all the "soul work" I've done all these years, walking through fire.

Could she possibly be right?

Could this be what Maes has meant all along, when he's demanded that I take a real look at myself?

All I know is that I believe her when she says I'm going to be needed. The feeling has been growing on me for a while now. There's something left to be done – Edward and Alphonse still need me – perhaps my country still needs me – and maybe even you still need me.

If that's the case, then I must be ready. I've already started trying to get back into shape.

And when I get back up north, I'm going to walk up into that valley every day and practise my alchemy. It's time I took my gloves out of the drawer again. Finally.


	26. Chapter 26

**26.**

God, Riza, I'm so pathetically out of shape it's not funny.

The upper reaches of that valley north of the cabin are covered in forest. It's a wonder I haven't burned the whole thing down by now. Having just one eye really plays havoc with one's visual perspective. If I don't figure out how to compensate, I'm going to blow something up, I know it. That is…blow something up that I didn't plan to.

The dreams are getting more intense, you know, the ones about Ed. I have to keep practising, because I'm starting to wonder how much time I have left to get my skills back.

Of course, it would help to know what I'm going to need them for, dammit.

Maes thinks this whole thing is hilarious. He keeps saying things like, "Stop trying to make plans, and fly by the seat of your pants, for once, Roy." Which is not the way I've lived my life for several years; you can't manipulate people unless you've got every move carefully planned.

But "seat of the pants" was pretty much the way Ed and Al always lived, wasn't it? They seemed to do alright, most of the time.

I suppose it won't hurt me to learn some new habits.


	27. Chapter 27

**27.**

Damn, Riza.

I just got a call from Armstrong. He heard from Rose (that was her name) in Lior that Izumi – the boys' teacher, remember? – has died. And Alphonse has gone journeying, looking for Ed.

I only talked to Izumi for less than an hour, and yet…I'm really grieving.

She knew this was coming. It was surprising what we told each other, in that hour. If I could have done anything to save her…

Anyway. It was when I understood she was dying that I realized I had to pull myself together, and prepare for that work I still have to do. I suppose I've decided to act for both of us.

Or perhaps she was the one who decided, when she admonished me that I had more yet to do. In a way, I may be her final weapon, thrown against the dark.

Then I'd better keep practising in that valley. For her sake – in her name – I'll need to strike true when I'm let loose.


	28. Chapter 28

**28.**

Dear Riza,

Armstrong just called again, and told me what happened in Lior. You'll have heard about it by now, I'm sure.

This is what Izumi could sense. This is what my dreams have been about. I know it.

Ed's alive, Riza. I doubt he was responsible for that strange appearance of armoured soldiers, but I'm still convinced they have something to do with him.

Alphonse seemed to be, too. Did you hear he was there when it happened? After the soldiers inside the armour died from the transition they'd been through, they started disappearing. The way Armstrong described it, there was some kind of boiling cloud in the sky, and they all started rising and vanishing into it. Everyone was a bit stunned, and pretty much just watched – except Al.

They always were quicker than anyone else, those boys. I guess Al grabbed onto one of the last suits of armour, probably planning to ride it through to the other side. I'm glad someone pulled him off, because whatever killed those soldiers from the other place – I don't want Al going through it.

Though if anyone could survive it, he probably could. Ed did.

But I don't think he was ready. I think something else is coming. I've heard that there have been odd disturbances in Central, too. (Are you alright, Riza? What about the others?) And what do Lior and Central have in common, when it comes to "odd disturbances"?

Edward and Alphonse Elric.

Central is the place. That's where it's going to happen. Whatever "it" is.

I'm getting much better with my alchemy, by the way. In fact, I'm very good now.


	29. Chapter 29

**29.**

Dear Riza,

I called Winry Rockbell yesterday. I know – it was probably the wrong thing to do, but I really need information right now, and I thought she might know something. Maes was sitting across the desk and giving me the stern eye when I called, so I made sure to be as courteous and non-intrusive as I could. If Al was there, I'd have talked to him instead, but I got the impression he came and went quickly, after he left Lior. I'm sure I know where he's headed.

Winry was very gracious, and I'm grateful. She seemed to understand the importance of what's going on. She confirmed that Alphonse is not only looking for Ed, but hopes to bring him back from wherever he's gone. Back from the place where he's living when I see him in my dreams.

It was strange to talk to her. You know, after…everything. I doubt she'll ever be comfortable with me, even if we've reached something of an understanding. But we're both able to put aside our own history and talk civilly when it's necessary. I'm glad we've at least gotten that far.

Riza – what if I can help bring Ed back to her?


	30. Chapter 30

**30.**

Dear Riza,

I'm on the train to Central. I can hardly believe it, after all this time. I'm coming home!

I got someone to fill in for me up north, even though I don't really have permission to leave. But there's something coming, and I have a gut feeling it's urgent that I get to Central as soon as possible. And if I figured out that that's where everything's going to happen, then Alphonse certainly did.

I feel as though my old life is ending, and a new one is about to start. I'm actually excited. You'd think I was Al's age, with the butterflies in my stomach. Maes teases me about it all the time these days. At least he hasn't compared me to Elysia. Yet.

I've had time to think, while on the train. Wait – that's a stupid thing to say, since I've been doing nothing _but_ think, for almost two years up north. What I mean is that I'm trying to understand what all the thinking has been _for_.

In one of my earlier letters, I wondered who exactly _is_ Roy Mustang? Well…I am. In the end, that's the only answer. Whatever you, or Maes, or anyone else did to influence what I am, the real answer is that I'm the one who transmuted all those elements into the final product – myself.

I chose to become a State Alchemist, naïve and idealistic – and pretty damn stupid – believing I could use my alchemy for the good of the people, even if it was placed in the service of a military dictatorship. For good or ill, I made that decision – against the wishes of my own teacher, your father – and duly suffered the consequences.

Yes, it's a cold, hard fact that I murdered hundreds of thousands of people. But even though I can never take any of it back, things seem different now. Because underneath everything – it still surprises me – I discover I'm the same idealist I was in the beginning. That's the thing that both Maes and Izumi wanted me to find out, I think. And that idealist has begun to believe that maybe, just maybe, even the massacres in Ishbal can be forgiven.

I am deeply, wrenchingly, grievously sorry for what I did, to those numberless thousands of people, to that entire country. I grieve for Winry Rockbell, whom I orphaned, and Pinako Rockbell, whose son and daughter-in-law I killed. If I could take those countless evils back, or give my life to undo them – I would.

But I don't have to stop there. I can still turn forward, and live a good life, and do what I can to atone for all that and create something better. What are human beings, after all, except beings who can learn and grow, and are capable of overcoming terrible things to become greater and better? Look how Edward and Alphonse turned their own tragedies and awful mistakes into something truly great.

So I'm coming south, to start again. Whatever is coming, I want to be part of it. I'm happy, Riza – I'm actually happy, for the first time in years!

I'm coming home to you. Whether you want to see me, or reject me completely, I'll accept your choice either way. I just want to see you again, and do whatever I can to make things up to you, too.

But first, the battle. I'm sure that's what it will be, and I'm ready for it. I'm truly ready.


	31. Chapter 31

**31.**

My dearest Riza,

This is my last letter, being written as I sit at Maes's graveside. When I'm done here, I'll bundle all these letters together and take them to the military post. I'm sure they'll hold them – either to give back to me later, or give to you if something happens to me in the next few days. I know a couple of women (naturally) who work there, and I can trust them to keep tabs.

When I finished my letter on the train yesterday, I could hear his voice giving approval. It was a late train, and my particular car was empty, but I heard Maes's voice anyway. I think he said something like "Well done." It was a bit confusing because he was either inside my head, or looking over my shoulder from the seat behind me. I didn't turn around because…well, I didn't want to find that there was no one there. He hasn't been coming around as often lately.

But I still couldn't resist, after he signaled his approval of my letter. I sort of leaned back in my seat and asked outright, "You're leaving me, aren't you?"

I couldn't see it, but I know he smiled. He said, "I think I've taken you about as far as I can, don't you?" I wanted to lie and say I still needed him to guide me, but he'd have known it wasn't true.

He was very gentle about things, though. You never really got to see that side of him. You saw the complete goof – rather more often than I liked, at the time. And you saw how he straightened up and really got down to a job when things were serious. But you never saw the gentle compassion – the times when I was crying, and suicidal, and he'd sit on the floor beside me, put his arms around me and let me cry, and then whisper all the good reasons there were to try to live just one more day.

That was how he was, yesterday on the train. I leaned against the window, and we talked for at least two hours. We reminisced about a lot of things we did together over the years. Some day I should tell you stories about our academy days, Riza. Even you might be a little shocked at some of them.

I was surprised at how many of our memories were good ones, despite all the tragedies. Maes and I had great times together. He reminded me that most of the times had been good, actually. Why hadn't I realized that before?

That's how I'll remember him, now. He was my dearest friend. He was a truly great man. And he's always going to be my hero.

When the train was starting its approach to Central, and dawn was just coming, I realized that it wasn't me and Maes talking any more – it was just me, leaning against the window, thinking and remembering.

So he's gone now. And I know he won't be back. Which is why I came here, to his grave, because even if he's left me for good, I sure as hell don't plan to leave _him_! I win this one, Maes. (Sorry, Riza, running joke. Tell you later, maybe.)

And now the future. No, forget the future – _tomorrow_ I see you again! And I thought I had butterflies yesterday! Will you smile at me, or slap my face? Is Black Hayate still with you? Have you cut your hair? (Please tell me you haven't.)

I know we have work to do, tomorrow and beyond. If I get my wish, I'll be allowed to work with you again, you and the others – and this time you'd outrank me. Not that that would be much different, since you always ordered me around anyway, whatever our ranks were. And this time, _you'd_ be responsible for the paperwork. I can see certain advantages already, to the arrangement…

But if that happens, then we'll face the old restrictions again. And the one thing I want most to say to you – the thing I've never been allowed to say, and wanted to tell you more than anything in life – it'll be forbidden. Again.

So I'll say it now, so you hear it from me at least once in our lives: I love you, Riza. You are the dream of my life, and the light of all my days. I've loved you since the day I met you, and will love you until the moment I die.

At least, finally, I now have a hope of being worthy of you. I'm ready for all of it. Whatever battles are coming, we'll win them.

I'd better get going now, and put these letters in safe hands.

Tomorrow! Wait for me, Riza!

Love always,

Roy


End file.
